


CHAMPION

by mountainbluebird



Category: Wings of Fire - Tui T. Sutherland
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical warning for Scarlet's general awfulness, Gen, Major Character Death warning refers to Osprey, Mentor Osprey, Mentor/Parent relationships, Pre-Canon, Queen Scarlet's A+ Parenting, Some Violence and Death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-16 04:01:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29819118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mountainbluebird/pseuds/mountainbluebird
Summary: About a year before the Brightest Night, loyal SkyWing guard Osprey sees his friend Kestrel driven to kill one of her dragonets and leave the other in Queen Scarlet’s claws, shaking to the foundations his faith in the SkyWing throne. A dragonet with firescales is an abomination, defective and dangerous. That’s why Scarlet ordered Peril’s death as soon as she hatched. But after Kestrel’s disastrous attempt to escape with her dragonets, the Queen finds another use for Peril.As Peril grows up, Osprey begins to find himself caring for her beyond his circumscribed role, and consequently finds himself drawn into the tangled relationship between Peril and Scarlet. And worst of all, his care for Peril begins to threaten the one rule he must live by:Stay on Queen Scarlet’s good side, keep his head down, and don't give the Queen any reason to kill him.
Relationships: Osprey & Peril (Wings of Fire), Osprey & Scarlet (Wings of Fire), Peril & Scarlet (Wings of Fire)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 6





	1. The Things We Run From

Osprey was on duty the morning that Kestrel’s egg hatched. The day had dawned clear and beautiful, and Queen Scarlet had risen early to begin her breakfast meal. Two guards stood beside the door to her luxurious chambers, and Osprey stood at attention behind the queen, determinedly ignoring the tempting scent of fresh fish from the Diamond Spray River. He’d spent his career in the service of the crown as a loyal SkyWing Palace Guard, as his parents had before him, and as the Captain of the Queen’s personal guard he had plenty of practice standing statue-still behind her as she ate, or issued decrees, or lounged on her throne, or luxuriated in the bloody arena sport that she loved so much. It was unexciting work, for the most part, and as Osprey aged, his body protested the ramrod-stiff positions more and more. As the Queen finished her meal, he shifted his weight ever so slightly from foot to foot, trying to keep the blood flowing in his old muscles. 

A burst of frantic flapping beyond the chamber door jolted Osprey out of his stupor. “Urgent message for the Queen!” a dragon called.

Queen Scarlet sighed. “Enter,” she said, “and make it quick.”

Osprey recognized the dragon who bolted through the doorway; she was one of the junior hatchery guards, a young Skywing who joined the Palace Guard just under a year earlier. The guard breathed heavily, panting and gasping as if she had flown from the hatchery to the Queen’s wing of the palace as quickly as she could. “Your Majesty,” she said, “a dragonet with firescales has just hatched.”

“Whose dragonet is it?” Queen Scarlet demanded, her voice sharp as the crack of a whip. Osprey did not flinch, but the hatchery guard did, her wings almost touching the gold-inlaid floor.

“Kestrel’s,” said the guard, “on the soldiers’ breeding rotation—her egg hatched twins, and there’s something wrong with them. One is weak, with almost no fire in him. The other was already almost too hot to touch the moment she hatched from the egg. What are your orders, your Majesty?”

Queen Scarlet rose to her full serpentine height. “The customs regarding this—this abomination are clear. Such monsters are not allowed to live.” The Queen paused for a moment, considering her next words. “Bring Kestrel this order from me: tell her to kill the defective dragonets—drop them from the highest peak, drown them, snap their necks, I don’t care; I just want them dead. Tell Kestrel she is hereby banned from ever entering the breeding rotation again. When she has disposed of them, report back to me in the Throne Room. Bring Kestrel.” The guard bowed, her nose scraping the floor, and fled the room as if a battalion of angry IceWings were on her heels.

* * *

_Osprey had met Kestrel when she was a young army recruit, ten or so years before. He’d been a high ranking Palace Guard then, and with a few other older members of the Palace Guard had been in charge of giving her set of raw recruits a few weeks of training before they were sent off to the battlefield. It was not as much as Osprey would have wished to give, which worried Osprey for these dragons’ chance of survival in the War. But the SandWing, SeaWing, and IceWing armies were vicious, and the SkyWing army was shrinking by the day. Many of the dragons had been conscripted from simpler lives and knew nothing of battle. War is bloody and dragon lives are finite, and the general citizenry of the Sky Kingdom was weary of losing dragons to battle. As the war dragged on with no end in sight, Queen Scarlet had instituted the soldier breeding rotation, set up to rear dragons raised and prepared for war. But the first hatching of war-bred dragonets were not yet 3 years old—until they were ready, more and more SkyWings would be drawn into training for war._

_So Osprey and the other guards drilled the young soldiers in aerial maneuvers—how to twist to escape a hold, bear down on the enemy from above, dodge incoming fire and ice blasts. They told them to use the SkyWings’ mastery of the air to their advantage, they told them to find their enemies’ vulnerable spots, keep them on the ground, watch each others’ backs. With SeaWings—go for the gills and neck. With IceWings, the eyes and mouth. Osprey hoped it would be enough. For most, it wouldn’t be._

_But Kestrel soaked the information up like water into a dry sea sponge. She and a friend named Ember—for his scales the color of ashy flame—asked the most questions and stayed after the drills to spar with Osprey and the other guards. Even then, Osprey thought she had a spine made of diamond and a ferocity that might just save her life someday._

_The first battle Osprey’s recruits saw, they were on the front lines, talon fodder, a living shield for the more experienced soldiers in the ranks behind them. When their rotation brought them back to the barracks at the palace, over a third of their number were gone. Kestrel was alive, but her flame-scaled friend Ember was gone, cut down by a SeaWing. When she came to see Osprey, she thanked him, she told him that his training had saved her life. All it did was make Osprey remember that his training hadn’t been enough for so many of those young soldiers. He cursed the SeaWing army and the bloody war that the SandWing succession had become._

_Over the years, they became friends, of a sort, or at least friendly. Whenever Kestrel’s posting brought her back to the mountain palace they would make a point to meet and catch up, trading stories and sharing drinks outside under the sky. When Kestrel was chosen for the breeding rotation, she confessed to Osprey that she was nervous—she’d never expected to be a mother, at least not until she left the army. Dragon parents in the army were given four months off to spend with their hatchlings at the palace wingery, then sent back into active duty. What would her dragonets think of her?_

_The last time Osprey had seen Kestrel was less than a week ago. She’d been recalled to the palace because her egg was near hatching._

_“Just one egg,” she told Osprey, “but it’s unusually big.” She seemed almost worried. “I’ve been to see it, and it’s hotter than it should be. It’s too early for it to hatch—I almost think...”_

_But she never did tell Osprey the end of her thought, the answer that had made her frame vibrate with suppressed tension. As the hatchery guard told the Queen about Kestrel’s dragonets, Osprey realized what fear Kestrel must have been holding. Firescale dragonets were a curse—deadly, dangerous, and defective. She must have been so scared. He felt the same queasiness prick his soul as when his new, barely trained recruits had gone to battle and had come back with their numbers almost halved._ There is nothing, absolutely nothing I can do about it. All I can do is put one talon in front of the other, and listen to my Queen. She will know what to do, _Osprey told himself, as he had told himself before._ Oh, Kestrel, _he thought, and as the hatchery guard swept out of the door, he hoped that his friend could find the strength to survive this as she had survived so many battles before._

* * *

The Queen waited in her throne room. To a casual eye, she would have looked bored, her long body sprawled indolently across her throne. To Osprey, she looked tense, maybe even nervous. Her tail curled and uncurled, smoke rose from her nostrils, muscles tensed in the line of her shoulders. Then the hatchery guard tumbled through the open balcony, landing hard on the floor below the throne. A large, nasty looking burn covered the right side of her neck, and Kestrel was not with her.

“Your Majesty,” said the guard, “ we couldn’t stop her.” She shifted uncomfortably. Blood seeped from claw-wounds and scratches across her torso, leaving droplets of red on the gold-stained floors. “Please, I gave her your orders, just as you asked. Kestrel agreed, she asked for a minute alone with them to say goodbye. She had the dragonets strapped to her back by the time the guards came back in, and she plowed through us like we were scrolls and she was dragonfire.”

Osprey’s mind felt scrambled. _Could Kestrel really have betrayed the queen? Surely it isn’t possible._ He’d seen dragons tried before for disobeying Her Majesty’s orders, but he’d always thought of Kestrel as a loyal dragon above all, just like him. Sometimes the Queen’s decisions didn’t make sense to him, but he was a soldier with no head for politics, so he trusted the Queen’s judgement. And he had thought Kestrel was the same.

Queen Scarlet’s shoulders tensed further. “Where is Kestrel now?”

“She flew off in the direction of the river—the other hatchery guard is tracking her,” the guard said, “she’ll have to stop before the firescaled dragonet’s scales harden so she doesn’t get burned.”

“We can catch her,” said Scarlet. Her voice had gone dark and venomous. “And when we do, I want to see the look on her face. I bet it will be just _thrilling_.” She lifted herself from the throne and launched into the air.

Kestrel was a traitor, and a little bit of Osprey’s world had just turned on its head. _Her Majesty will know what to do,_ he told himself. _I just have to stick with her, and listen to her, and everything will make sense again. It will._

“Come with me now,” she said to Osprey and her other personal guards. “Send for more guards,” she told the hatchery guard, who was still crouched, bleeding, on the throne room floor. “You can go see the healers after that, if you can drag yourself to them alive.” And she dove out through the balcony and sped across the mountainside, Osprey hot on her heels.

* * *

They trapped Kestrel on a high bank overlooking the Diamond Spray River. She’d untied the dragonets from her back, they looked like two small, broken dolls lying on the ground at her feet, they looked like baby birds plucked from their nest too soon. Guards with spears surrounded her from all sides, and she stood over her two dragonets as if she could protect them with her body alone. Front and center, resplendent in all her self-assurance and glory, stood Queen Scarlet. The sun glinted off her scales and the rubies above her brow shone red as blood. Kestrel, with her blood and mud splattered scales and her air of desperation, stood before the Queen as a fox stands before a hunter. From where he stood behind the Queen, Osprey caught Kestrel’s eyes. She stared at him with betrayal and disappointment, and he had to look away. How could she betray him, betray the Queen like that, and still look at him as if he was the one who had done wrong? Kestrel had to know the price of her betrayal, and as much as it hurt to hunt her down like this, there was no way he would betray his Queen as well. Even if the thought of doing so was not abhorrent to him, if he turned against the Queen here, it would only get him dead along with his friend. The Queen’s wings were rigid with anger. Then she relaxed, and a wide smile spread itself across her face.

“Kestrel, oh Kestrel.” Queen Scarlet’s voice was soft and reasonably friendly, but beneath the light tone lurked a hint of flame. “ You had to disobey me. Now what do I do with you...” She stepped forward, and grabbed Kestrel’s face between her talons. She studied Kestrel’s face for a long moment, then released her.

“Aha!” said Scarlet, clicking her talons togther. The smile on her face grew toothier. “Kestrel, you have been a loyal soldier, haven’t you? Osprey always speaks so highly of you. One of our Kingdom’s finest?” Kestrel could only nod. “I’m giving you one more chance to obey me. Do as I say, and we can all just _forget_ about this nasty little episode, alright? Or we can just kill you and your dragonets right here if you’d rather.” 

All the dragons on the riverbank collectively held their breath. It was a choice with only one real answer, one real answer that would end with Kestrel still alive and Osprey’s world in order. Osprey stared at Kestrel, as if he could send her his thoughts with just the sheer intensity of his gaze. _Just do as she says,_ he wanted to tell her. _Please, don’t disobey her again. I want my friend back. Please._

Kestrel, with nowhere left to run, answered the Queen. “What must I do, your Majesty?”

“It almost seems to me that these defective dragonets matter more to you than me, your _Queen,_ ” Scarlet said, her face twisted into an expression of hurt. “Now I know, if you are truly a loyal dragon, that this must not be the case.” Scarlet paused, and triumphant glee spread across her face, wiping away the hurt expression as if it had never been there. “So prove it. Choose one of your two dragonets to kill, and I’ll let you and the other one live.”

 _WHAT?_ Thought Osprey. _The Queen can’t possibly have said that. It’s too cruel._

Kestrel recoiled from the Queen as if stung. She curled her tail protectively around the dragonets. “You want me to do _what?_ ” 

“Either you choose one of them and kill it yourself, or I can have my guards kill all three of you. We’ll even kill the defective little ones first, so you can watch. Can I trust you to obey me?”  
Osprey saw something break in Kestrel’s eyes. It was an impossible situation. Could she kill one of her own dragonets, even to save the lives of her other dragonet and herself? Osprey told himself that he had to do something, anything, but his body had frozen in place. Queen Scarlet’s voice was hard as a rock, and Osprey was sure that she would follow through on her threat. Osprey had sometimes not understood the reasons behind Queen Scarlet’s orders before, but he’d never before thought of his monarch as cruel. Harsh, yes, and deadly when angered, but not cruel for no reason. Had she been like this all this time, and had Osprey never noticed? 

All of the fire went out of Kestrel’s body. Her long neck arched down to her feet, and she picked up one of the little dragonets. This one was the smaller of the two, with freakishly pale scales, too weak to even hold up his little head. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered to the little dragon. She faced Queen Scarlet. “I have made my decision.”

“Then finish it,” said the Queen. Kestrel drew her wings close to her body, and turned to the high bank of the river, cradling the tiny dragon in her claws. She opened her talons, and let the peach-colored dragonet fall into the raging waters below.

Scarlet sighed in disappointment. “That was not thrilling _at_ _all.”_

“I did what you asked, now let me and my dragonet go.” Kestrel’s eyes were flint in her stony face.

“I’m almost impressed,” said Queen Scarlet, “It takes a hard dragon to kill her own offspring. _I_ would know. You'd make a fine competitor for the arena.” Kestrel shifted uncomfortably. Her tail had wrapped around her one surviving dragonet, close but not touching her scales. Then the Queen gave an order. “Guards, arrest Kestrel and take her back to the palace for trial. Osprey, kill the dragonet.”

Every dragon on the riverbank gazed at the Queen in shock. Almost without his conscious input, Osprey heard himself say, “I’m sorry, your Majesty, I must have misheard you. I thought you were going to spare them?” Every eye that had been on the Queen snapped to him, the dragon who had dared to almost contradict the Queen. 

“I changed my mind, you idiot,” snapped Queen Scarlet, “I am the Queen. I was curious how far I could make her go, and she’s served her purpose. Now does anyone here want to question my judgement further and join Kestrel on trial for treason?” Her yellow eyes burned into Osprey like flames. And this was all the distraction that Kestrel needed. 

A sudden burst of dragonfire cleared the space around her. The guards, with their eyes on the Queen after her outburst, were far too slow to react, and Kestrel hadn’t been one of the Queen’s best soldiers for nothing. Her wings opened in a rush of air, and knocked two guards into the river. Her tail caught Scarlet in the throat, and she followed it with a talonful of sand. Scarlet went down hard, coughing and clawing at her eyes. As the guards rushed to the Queen’s aid, Kestrel grabbed her living dragonet and took off into the clear, cloudless sky. 

_They’re going to get away,_ Osprey thought, with some surprise and a little bit of unexpected relief, as he crouched beside the Queen. But above them, Kestrel roared in pain. Her dragonet’s firescales had hardened and heated, and the little dragon was burning her flesh. Her nerveless claws lost their grip. The little dragonet dropped like a stone; as she fell, the dragonet’s scales shone with a fiery copper hue in the sunshine, as if burning from the inside out. Kestrel lurched sideways in the air, almost falling from the sky. She looked down as if searching for her (probably dead) dragonet on the ground. She circled the site once, and fled towards the mountain canyons. 

The Queen regained her voice. “Go after her, you fools!”

But Kestrel had a head start. She was a strong flier, and no longer weighed down by a dragonet. There was no chance that the guards sent after her would catch her, especially once she vanished behind a canyon edge. And Osprey was sure that this would be the last time he would ever see his friend alive. 

Beside Osprey, the Queen paced and shouted curses at the sky, at the guards who had failed to catch Kestrel, at the Queen’s Guard who had stayed to protect her, at Kestrel herself. As Scarlet ranted, Osprey caught a glimpse of something glinting copper in a patch of grass beside the riverbank. He edged closer. It was Kestrel’s little firescaled dragonet. She had burned a dragon-shaped scorch mark into the grass in the place where she lay on the ground, her body curled in on itself from the fall. Dead, the little dragon looked surprisingly harmless.

The dragonet’s neck twitched. Perhaps, not dead after all. Was she still alive? Osprey looked closer, and sure enough, the little dragonet’s rib cage was rising and falling. Weakly, but it was still there.

“Your Majesty,” Osprey said, “This little one’s still alive.”

“Interesting,” said Scarlet. Her long neck craned over Osprey’s shoulder. 

“Do you still want us to kill it?” asked a guard from beside Scarlet’s wing. She held her spear at the ready, but her claws were trembling.

“Look at those scales,” murmured the Queen. “Someone go fetch me a stone cauldron from the kitchens. I might have another use for this one.”

Osprey thought of Scarlet’s SandWing ally—Queen Burn, who was well known to collect odd and deformed animals. Including dragons. A firescaled dragonet would make a fine addition to her collection. And it was rumored that Burn liked to kill and stuff her prizes herself. This must be the Queen’s intention—a gift for an ally. No wonder the Queen wanted the dragonet alive. _You poor thing,_ Osprey thought, and tried to put it out of his mind. Dragonets with firescales were deadly, monstrous abominations—the little dragonet had been doomed to die from the moment she hatched, and there was nothing he should—or could—do about it.

A week later, Osprey resigned from the Queen’s guard. He told Scarlet it was his age getting to him, that she deserved to have younger, stronger guards whose muscles didn’t seize up when they stood at attention for hours at end. And that was true—but it was more that after witnessing what Scarlet had done to Kestrel and her dragonets on the riverbank, he couldn’t get the nagging feeling of doubt out of his head. He was a loyal dragon, and yet he saw in a new way the way the Queen dismissed the concerns of her subjects. And yet he watched Queen Scarlet’s beloved arena fights with new eyes, couldn’t escape the pricklings of his conscience as she preened and crowed over every death. And through it all, the memory of the betrayal, the despair in Kestrel’s eyes haunted him. He felt on the verge of becoming someone different, felt his loyalty to the SkyWing crown teetering on a knife’s edge, and he ran from it. He liked knowing who he was, liked the certainty in being Osprey, Queen Scarlet’s loyal and stalwart guard. So he left, took his meager belongings to his parents’ old cave in a neighboring mountain, and let all the things he did not do, all the things he stood by watching as Scarlet did, and the rest of his regrets all wash away and disappear into his past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ever since I read the books for the first time, I’ve been intrigued by Peril’s character. I also apparently have a number of feelings about Osprey and Peril’s friendship, and Queen Scarlet‘s terrible “parenting.”  
> So I suppose this fic is really a vehicle to scratch these itches and to let me flesh out a relatively minor character.  
> The details of Kestrel’s flight are pulled from Osprey’s defense of her in The Dragonet Prophecy, as is Osprey’s position as a guard.  
> It always seemed to me like a spectacularly foolhardy move for Osprey to come to Kestrel’s defense, unless he had some important stake in the outcome of the trial. So I thought it would make sense for Osprey and Kestrel to be friends (and expect a bit more about the trial later).  
> Kestrel throws Sky into the river to account for his being alive in Dragonslayer—all we know from the books is that she “killed him with her own claws.”  
> The existence of a breeding rotation/program—especially one that draws from the military force—suggests that there is a reason for this. It makes most sense to me that this is due to the war, since we’ve seen that (a) dragon battles are pretty deadly, and (b) the dragon population is not huge.  
> To account for Kestrel being there to spirit her dragonets away, I’ve given dragon parents in the army a little time off for their egg hatching. We can assume “Soar” is being a deadbeat dad and/or messing around in another kingdom and consequently is nowhere to be found when this all goes down. Possibly the fallout from this ends up being how Queen Scarlet tracks him down and gets him to work for her. He will not be appearing in this fic though, as it is set before and up to The Dragonet Prophecy.  
> Canonically, Peril’s scales cannot melt rock, so transporting her in a stone cauldron makes sense.  
> And we know from The Brightest Night that Burn likes to stuff weird dragons herself—one would expect that to be a known fact/rumor, and something to explain Scarlet's interest in a firescaled dragonet beyond utility as a weapon.


	2. The Bars of Our Cages

On the day after the Brightest Night, Osprey was in the palace looking for an audience with the Queen. It was strange to be back after being out of the Queen’s service for almost a year, Osprey mused. After the peace of living by himself, beholden to no one, Osprey could almost feel the tension and fear hanging in a cloud about the place. In the halls, groups of dragons scurried along with their heads down, conversing in low voices. Something had happened in the palace last night. Something that had the dragons of the palace afraid for their lives. As he slowly wound his way towards the throne room, the terrified whispers of passing groups of dragons reached Osprey’s ears.

“ _ —killed all of the eggs, burnt them all to a crisp—” _

_ “—of Peace tried to steal one, and the Queen—” _

_ “—made sure that no one can challenge her now. Tourmaline is—” _

_ “—dragonet. A terrifying weapon, if she can truly control—” _

It was enough to make him want to turn tail and run, sent him wishing for his solitary cave on the mountainside. But he could also feel the broken dead weight of his tail dragging behind him. Osprey had seen breaks like it before, on soldiers returning from the battlefield, and he knew it would never heal. He would never fly again. And unless he could somehow convince the Queen to let him stay in the palace, he was as good as dead. Skywings were built to be aerial predators, and a flightless dragon, especially one with his slowly deteriorating vision, would starve to death. And it would be a hungry, painful death. Or more scavengers would come back to his cave , and kill him for sure this time. Appealing to Queen Scarlet’s mercy to stay in the palace was his only hope. 

The Queen’s throne room was as opulent as ever, with the reflected light from outside the balcony bouncing off thousands of gold inlays in the floor, the walls, the ceiling. The light and glitter of it all made Osprey’s head hurt. He folded himself into an awkward bow, and waited for the Queen to address him. From his position on the floor, he could just about see the tip of her tail twitch.

“I recognize you,” The Queen said slowly. “Osprey, wasn’t it? Or was it Vulture? I wasn’t expecting to ever see  _ your _ snout again, I thought you’d crawled into the mountains to live out the rest of your life in boredom.”

“Osprey, your majesty,” said Osprey. “I have come before you today to ask for a boon—several days ago I was attacked by a scavenger in my cave, and though I killed it, the vicious creature got in a lucky stab before it went. I will never fly again. I would ask you if there is any role that I could have here in the palace so that I might be allowed to stay here in my old age and infirmity. Please, your Majesty, my life and my treasure are yours.”

Queen Scarlet leaned forward on her gilded throne. “You’re lucky you came to ask me today,” she said, “I just happen to have an opening for you—I’m having one of my advisors executed tomorrow and you can have his position—and cave too, since you’ll be wanting some place to stay.” Osprey’s blood drained from his face. He was hoping for a post in the kitchens, or on the cleaning crew, something away from the Queen. Even this short moment in her presence brought back all the questions he had tried to suppress when he left. His family had served the royal crown for generations, he was a loyal dragon. He was. And yet, despite his own wishes, part of him screamed that Queen Scarlet was not worthy of being followed. Part of him watched, once again, as a friend killed her own dragonet to appease the Queen. Was this what ruling justly looked like?  _ Stop it,  _ Osprey told himself.  _ I am a loyal dragon. The Queen is harsh because she has to be. I am a loyal dragon. If dragons just did as she said, no one would get hurt. I am a loyal dragon. If Kestrel had just respected her enough, nothing would have had to happen. I am a loyal dragon. I am loyal to the crown. _

“Don’t look so scared,” said Scarlet, “Buzzard is being executed because he challenged my judgement in front of the  _ whole court _ yesterday. Challenging ME, can you imagine? And he was boring me anyway—always going on about the health benefits of goat kidneys or something. Since I’m sure you would never do anything like that—you’ve been so loyal, after all—you’ll be completely fine. And thanks for the treasure!” Osprey had seen friendlier smiles on crocodiles in the MudWing swamps. But this was too good of an offer to pass up. And all he would have to do was never disagree with Scarlet and stay on her good side. Surely that couldn’t be too difficult?

Osprey cleared his throat. “I am honored to take your offer, your Majesty.”

The Queen clicked her talons at one of the guards standing beside her throne. “Avalanche here will take you to Buzzard’s quarters.” Avalanche glared at the Queen, a tinge of fear in her eyes, then stared at Osprey as if this request was somehow all his fault. Scarlet just lazily flicked her talons. “You can ask her to explain most of your responsibilities as my advisor. I will send for you when I’m done dealing with the rest of this riff-raff”—she gestured to the line of dragons awaiting an audience in the hall outside her throne room— “and once I send for you I will show you your final duty.” 

_ My final duty?  _ Osprey wasn’t sure he liked the sound of that. But Avalanche was already pushing her way into the corridor, when she showed no signs of slowing down to wait for him, Osprey had to hurry to catch up with her.

* * *

Osprey’s new quarters were a medium-sized stone cave set fairly close to the Queen’s personal chambers. They were on one of the higher levels of the palace—Osprey had had to take the narrow passageways meant for the palace servants to get there, as the normal way up involved flying up a few levels. The passageways had been steep, and cramped for a dragon of his size. He had kept on bumping his useless tail into the steps and walls, and all the while the guard—Avalanche—kept up a continuous, yet somehow remarkably grumpy sounding, list of things he should know about being an advisor. 

Osprey just about managed to catch something about signing off on the Queen’s decisions—“you’ll have to say yes, of course, but her Majesty likes to seem as if she takes the opinions of her citizens into account—”, something about delivering orders, “—she’ll usually send a guard, an advisor, or one of her sons—”, and something about trials “—Buzzard was our public defender for trials—well, he mostly napped—so her Majesty will probably want you to take on that role—”, and a few more assorted snippets about the Queen’s daily habits as he squeezed his way through the dark passages. He was already dreading the trek back to the throne room. When Avalanche finally stopped in front of a doorway, Osprey sighed in relief.

The cave had clearly been lived in. In the corner lay a messily arranged sleeping space, the pile of furs in disarray as if the dragon who lived here had left in a hurry. A small stack of scrolls sat on a desk by the narrow stone window, a pen and a bottle of ink had been meticulously laid out. A small portrait of Queen Scarlet smouldered from the far wall. 

“Here’s your new cave,” said Avalanche. She shifted her weight from foot to foot, as if anxious to get back to the throne room. But then why the hateful stare, directed at Queen Scarlet? Or maybe she was anxious to get away from him, after what had happened to Scarlet’s last advisor. “You can keep all of Buzzard’s things, too. He’s not going to be coming back for them, obviously, and they might be useful to you as the new advisor.” With that, the guard turned back down the hallway, leaving Osprey standing in the cave entrance.

“Wait!” called Osprey. Avalanche stopped, but didn’t turn back around. “What happened here last night? What happened between you and Scarlet? You used to look up to her so much, when we were on her guard together.”

Avalanche’s whole body tensed, and she let out a low growl. “You’ll find out soon enough,” she snapped, “since it looks like you’ve crawled right back to lick Her Majesty’s talons. I’m OUT, you hear me? And if you had any sense you would be too!” And she stormed away, her claws clicking hard on the stone floor. 

_ That was odd,  _ thought Osprey.  _ But what choice do I have but to stay here, and to rely on Her Majesty’s generosity? I can’t let it matter too much. Well, now that I’m here, let’s have a look at my new accommodations. _

Once the tip of Avalanche’s tail had disappeared down the corridor, Osprey gingerly stepped through the entrance. It was homey, true, and looked comfortable too, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was invading someone else’s space.  _ Best to get comfortable, _ he told himself,  _ this is my home now.  _

Osprey walked across the room and peered out the high window. It opened up to the backside of the palace, giving him a magnificent view of a green high mountain valley and a couple neighboring mountains. Very peaceful. Just like he intended the rest of his life to be, even if he  _ was _ back in the palace. Osprey took a deep breath of cool mountain air, and stepped away from the window. Next, he turned to the desk with its pen, ink, and scrolls. Ink had dried black and crusty on the metal nib of the pen, and a small drip stained the wood where Buzzard must have set the pen down. He must have left the room in a rush, the last time the Queen had called for him. The bottle of ink had been left open, but the contents inside hadn’t dried out yet, and could be reused. Osprey carefully replaced the cap, setting the bottle down at the top of the desk and turning his attention to the scroll lying half-open next to the pen. At one point the scroll had been held open by weights—little round, black stones cleverly shaped like dragon heads—but a couple of the stones had worked loose, leaving the scroll partially curled in on itself.

Osprey flattened the scroll and began to real. In a small but precise hand, it contained part of a record of the previous advisor’s life—that must be what many of the other scrolls piled on the desk were as well. It seemed Buzzard had lived a fairly uneventful life: there were many days without notes, and what notes there were often talked about only mundane things—an excellent goat kidney dish he had sampled one day, a spectacular sunset another day—interspersed with more detailed records of important events in Queen Scarlet’s court. It would be an invaluable resource for a new advisor.

The final entry, near the bottom of the scroll, was written in a shaky, hurried hand. The ink clearly hadn’t been allowed to dry before the scroll had curled in on itself, the writing was smudged badly enough to be illegible in many places—and it was dated for the day before. Between the splotches of ink, Osprey could just make out a few sentences: “ _ The Queen will not see reason, she— —told her again it’s too dangerous, against everything SkyWings stand for. I said too mu— —efinitely will come for me, if not tonight then tomorrow , and I regret it, I regret— —the [blot] ought to be kill— —too powerful to control, if it survives— —but at least I won’t be there to see it. [smudge] anyone reads this, I beg you to give this chronicle to—” _ the transcript ended with a great blot of ink. Suddenly, it hit Osprey that he was reading the words of a dead dragon. A dragon who had touched this scroll yesterday, had written these words yesterday, who would never write in this chronicle again, never see this room again. Who after tomorrow would never breathe again. All for disagreeing with the Queen.

Osprey stepped away from the desk, from the scroll, and felt a shiver run down his spine. This would be the cost, if he ever went against the queen—a death sentence, a room filled with another dragon as if their lives were interchangeable.  _ I’m never, ever going to give the Queen a reason to execute me,  _ he thought,  _ I’m going to keep my head down and tread carefully _ .

He would have a chance to take his own advice soon enough.

* * *

“Osprey, meet Peril, my adorable little weapon.”

They were in the deepest section of the palace, the old dungeon that Skywing queens had held their prisoners in before Scarlet built new cells above the arena, so that prisoners would be on display for every moment of the rest of their lives until they fought each other to death. Queen Scarlet had stopped on the very lowest level in front of a cell which seemed, oddly, to be constructed entirely of stone.

In the gloom beyond the bars, something moved, and flashed a brilliant copper color. Osprey stepped closer—it was a dragonet, clearly only about a year old. The dragonet in the cell had coppery scales, bright blue eyes, and seemed almost to be glowing with fire from the inside out. The little dragon wore Kestrel’s face, her nose structure, the shape of her eyes. Osprey’s breath caught in his throat.

“That’s Kestrel’s dragonet. The one with the firescales,” said Osprey. “I thought you handed her over to Burn.”

“I found a better use for her. When she is a little older, I’m going to use her in the arena—she’ll make a  _ thrilling _ champion, don’t you think? No one will dare oppose me when I have her power at my talons.” It was as much a statement as a threat. A threat _ —was Peril what had scared the palace dragons so much? Was Peril what had happened to the eggs? To Tourmaline? Was Peril the ‘abomination’ that Scarlet was executing her own advisor over? _

“She must have been what the dragons in the corridors were so alarmed about today.” Osprey said. He bent down to the damp floor, to put his head on level with the little dragonet. “Did you have her do something to the eggs due to hatch on Brightest Night?”

“You could say she … makes a mean fried egg,” said Queen Scarlet, no remorse in her voice. “It was an impressive demonstration. Look at her: she’s so eager to please.”

“Hi! Hi! Hi!” chirped the little dragonet. Peril was clearly happy to see the Queen, who favored her weapon with an indulgent smile that didn’t nearly reach her eyes. What kind of interactions was Peril used to, Osprey wondered, that she greeted the sight of Queen Scarlet outside her cell bars with such joy? 

“Osprey, you were one of the longest serving guards in my ranks—you served under my mother as well, did you not? And you trained soldiers for the battlefield.”

“Yes,” said Osprey, thinking of Kestrel. Was she still alive? Did she regret the dragonet she left behind on that riverbank, the dragonet now pacing back and forth at the door of her stony cell?

“I want you,” said Scarlet, “to teach my little monster here how to kill.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter occurs right after the prologue of Escaping Peril--so Peril burning the eggs is on the minds of the SkyWings.  
> Osprey canonically is “really old and almost blind” at the time of his death, and gave his treasure to the Queen in order to stay at the palace after his tail was paralyzed by a scavenger/human.  
> Buzzard is the character referred to as “Kidney Breath” in the prologue of Escaping Peril (the old advisor who keeps vocally questioning the wisdom of keeping Peril alive). Avalanche (Flame’s mother) is canonically a member of the Talons of Peace, she was another guard who was at the river when Kestrel tried to run, and is known to both hate and fear Peril.  
> SkyWings seem to go places mostly by flying, but in order for Osprey to get around the palace, I thought he might be able to use stairways and corridors meant for palace servants to move around unobtrusively in order to ascend levels of the palace without flying.  
> Peril’s scales don’t melt rock, so it’s reasonable to assume Scarlet had a rock-related way of long-term confining her in the palace as a dragonet (she used a pile of rocks as a temporary holding mechanism in the prologue of Escaping Peril). Especially since before the events of the prologue it seems most dragons were not aware of Peril’s survival, so she must have been kept out of the way somehow. The fact that there is a tradition of the Champion’s Shield suggests that gladiatorial fights have been around in the SkyWing kingdom for a long time, but the prison above the arena is very on-brand for Scarlet. Hence: old, disused prison in the bowels of the mountain.


	3. Blood On Our Hands

“This is _so boring,_ ” Peril complained, “boring, boring, BORING.”

“It’s a very useful aerial maneuver,” said Osprey. “Get up off the floor, and let’s give it another try.” Osprey, in trying to teach the maneuver to Peril, had enlisted the use of a large paper drawing of the steps to the combat move, and his own—admittedly somewhat lacking in finesse and clarity—attempts to provide a pantomime. It wasn’t working too well. 

Peril had practiced it nearly ten times, flying from one side of the cell to pounce on an overturned stone cauldron resting in the floor on the other side that stood in for a dragon. She was supposed to swoop in with a near-vertical motion, a move that SkyWings used to drop in on a surprised opponent from above. But Peril had not been flying for very long, and her flight was still erratic and wobbly. By the eighth time Peril attempted the move with little discernible progress, her frustration had come to a near visible boil. And now she was lying on the ground, one wing folded over her head, refusing to try again.

“What if,” said Peril, “I finished learning this fighting move tomorrow, and you told me a story instead. Pleeease? You never finished telling me about the time you mistook a crocodile for a high ranking MudWing officer...”

Since Osprey loved telling stories, and slogging onward would only leave Peril more frustrated, Osprey decided they could call it a day. He’d do what he sometimes did when Peril was having a hard time and bring in a near life-size model of a dragon—made of wet straw—for Peril to practice on tomorrow. 

“Alright, alright, we can be done for the day,” Osprey laughed.

“Yay! Story time!” Peril let out a little cheer. With that, Osprey settled down on the cool stone floor, leant against the wall, and launched into the tale of his unfortunate misadventure with the MudWing army.

* * *

If Osprey had learned any one thing about Peril, it would be that she loved stories. Osprey descended to the bowels of the palace every day to teach her about fighting, and killing. But it was when he went off on tangents and told her stories—about being a guard, about his time training soldiers, about his escapades as a young dragonet—that she really lit up. For Osprey, who loved telling stories and had no one to tell them to, there was little motivation to bring a lesson back on track when it had been derailed. When he was showing Peril where to burn a dragon for a quick death or a painful death, for incapacitation or slow torture—rolling out drawn diagrams of dragons with Xs over the eyes, the throat, the jaw, the wings, it was hard to see the caged dragonet as anything but a deadly and dangerous weapon. But when he was telling Peril stories, and she smiled at him through the bars or asked him to tell her, again, the story about Baby Osprey, the snail, and the freshly baked fruit pie, Peril was just another young dragon, curious about the great big world out there. 

Now the highlights of Peril’s weeks, at least according to Peril, were the occasional days that Queen Scarlet would visit. The Queen eagerly quizzed Peril on the latest lessons she had had with Osprey, and the tidbits Peril told her—about dismemberment, or third degree burns, or turning other dragons’ fighting techniques against them—always put a satisfied smile on Scarlet’s face. If there was any part of Osprey that looked at these exchanges with unease, that thought that perhaps a bright young dragon should not be locked away and taught to kill, he pushed those feelings deep inside himself, stuffed them in a box, and turned the key. _The Queen clearly cares for Peril,_ he thought, _what more could one even ask for?_

So passed the first year of Osprey’s acquaintance with Peril in the dark, full of stories and lessons. Osprey taught Peril to read and write by drawing on the ground, and she soaked it up like a sponge. They were halfway through Osprey’s telling of the history of Pyrrhia (from the Scorching onward), when Peril told the Queen that she didn’t want to learn to fight dragons. 

It was during one of Scarlet’s usual visits. The visit started off normal enough, but when the Queen asked about Peril’s training, the little dragon said something very different instead.

“Why do I have to learn to fight?” Peril asked. The eagerness in her voice betrayed that this was something she had been holding in for a long time. “I want to be an Explorer! Or a Guard! Like in Osprey’s stories.”

The Queen gave Osprey a stare cold enough to freeze lava. As she swung her head to face Peril, her voice was icy and dangerous. “You are my monster, born to kill dragons. It is your fate.” As the Queen towered with rage, Peril shrank back into the far corner of her cell. “Peril, dear Peril, you say you don’t want to kill dragons. You have been a murderer since birth. You killed your brother in the egg, you sucked all the fire out of him and burned him to a crisp. _You_ killed those eggs for me on Brightest Night. Your claws are already stained with blood, because this is what you were made for. You cannot run from it.” 

_Peril didn’t kill her brother in the egg,_ thought Osprey. _Surely the Queen has just forgotten_ . He opened his mouth to speak, and the Queen fixed him with a stare that said, _it’s your hide if you dare contradict me._ He stepped back, and let the Queen go on. 

“Your own mother saw that you were a monster as soon as you hatched,” said Scarlet. In her corner, Peril had hidden her head beneath her forearms, as if hiding from the Queen’s words could make them cut less. In the dim lighting, Osprey saw her copper shoulders shaking. But the Queen went on speaking. “Your mother was going to drop you off the highest peak, as soon as she saw you hatch, did you know that?”

Suddenly, Queen Scarlet’s posture relaxed, and she let her voice sweeten and soften. “But Peril, I stopped your mother from throwing you off that mountain. I stopped her and I killed her. Why? Because I saw something in you, something that no one else is willing to see and love you for. Do you know what that something is?”

Peril peeled herself off the wall and came towards Scarlet. The love and yearning Osprey saw in her eyes could have lit up a bonfire, and she directed it all towards the Queen. “You really saved me? From my mother?”

“Yes, because I saw you could be a powerful weapon—my weapon. But what use is a weapon if it is not wielded? You will be glorious in the arena, Peril. Never doubt that. You have the potential to become a Champion any Queen would be proud of.”

Peril glowed under the light of Scarlet’s gaze. But when Osprey met her flame-blue eyes, beneath the surface they were dangerous and full of sharp edges. For a moment, all Osprey could see in Peril’s eyes was a budding monster—the sort of bloodthirsty monster that the Queen had just told her that she was. Peril would do anything to win the Queen’s approval, and Scarlet knew it. Scarlet was using it to shape Peril as a sculptor chips away at a masterpiece. And it certainly was not worth Osprey’s life to intervene in Scarlet’s plans. He would keep her secrets, uphold her lies. _Scarlet has to care about Peril,_ he told himself, _it’s from love that Her Majesty says these things. Peril should have, normally would have, been killed for what she is, and the Queen did spare her. But what else can she be but a weapon, with her scales and her ferality. She will always be a threat. After all, when a sculptor puts chisel to rock, they are only exposing what already lies beneath. Could there ever be a path open to Peril outside of being her Queen’s avenging sword?_

“I’ll let you think on what I’ve told you today,” said the Queen to the dragonet. “Osprey, with me,” she called as she swept up the dim corridor. 

The clicking of claws on rock rang loud in Osprey’s ears, but the Queen did not speak. Finally, as they approached the place where the corridor joined back into the main palace, Scarlet stopped and turned to face Osprey.

“I trust that I don’t have to explain to you what will happen to your sorry little hide if I ever find out that you’ve told Peril the true circumstances of her hatching,” said the Queen. Osprey could only nod in response. “Good. And I want you to stop corrupting my champion. The exciting stories about exploring and adventuring—this ends now. Don’t you think it would just be _cruel_ to keep telling her about a life that she’s too dangerous to ever have?”

* * *

It was only a week later that Osprey saw Peril kill a dragon for the first time. 

“Osprey, do you have anything to add in this prisoner’s defense?” Queen Scarlet had asked him. There was laughter in her voice, which was typical for a dragon’s trial. Osprey shook out his wings, which had gone stiff from the nap he had been taking while Prince Vermilion monologued on about honor and respect for the Queen. The sky was covered with clouds, a cool, steely grey, and the cold surface of the large boulder on which he perched was not friendly to his bones. Queen Scarlet continued speaking— “Or if you just want to keep sleeping, that’s fine too.” The crowd in the arena roared with laughter.

“No, your Majesty,” said Osprey. A thin, chill breeze nipped lightly at his face. “The penalty for trying to harm you is as clear as the assassination attempt he tried to launch. I can say nothing in his defense.” The dragon on trial—a chef in the royal kitchens with fruit-orange scales, named Tangerine—had been caught trying to poison the queen, supposedly in revenge for his sister’s death in the war. Osprey had barely been listening to Vermilion’s prosecutorial ranting, but the outcome of the trial was clearly forgone. Queen Scarlet merely wanted to put on a show, discourage anyone else from trying the same thing as the hapless chef. There was nothing for Osprey to do, and he kept his mouth shut. He gingerly stretched first one wing, then the other, thinking wistfully of his warm cave. _As soon as the trial ends,_ he resolved, _I am jumping right off this boulder, heading straight up the arena tunnel, and going back to bed._

After a long moment, the Queen delivered her verdict. “The sentence for the prisoner’s crimes is DEATH!” she roared, and the crowd cheered. “And I have a _thrilling_ surprise for my loyal audience.”

In the arena, several guards began to unchain the prisoner from the ground, leaving him with only the silvery wing-clasps that prevented flight. Vermilion jumped down from his boulder, and stalked out to the center of the arena. _Was the Queen planning to immediately force Tangerine into a fight to the death?_

A few other guards shifted Osprey’s boulder to the side of the arena, and helped him up into the first row of the stands. _So Queen Scarlet_ did _intend for Tangerine to die in combat for his execution. But who could she set as his opponent to be sure of Tangerine’s death in the fight? What was Scarlet planning?_

A stir at the mouth of the tunnel to the arena drew Osprey’s eye. A knot of guards moved cautiously into the arena, their spears pointed _inward_ at something in their midst. Once on the sands they stepped aside, lifting oddly colored spears up and away from a little copper-scaled dragonet. Away from Peril. _So soon?_ thought Osprey. Far above Osprey’s position in the front row, on her royal balcony, the Queen smiled, wide and dangerous. 

Behind Osprey, the arena audience muttered in surprise. In one of the upper rows, a dragon tried unsuccessfully to pass off a sudden laugh as a coughing fit. But Osprey’s eyes were fixed on Peril. The air around her was shimmering with heat, but the little dragon was looking at the sky with wonder. When was the last time she had been outside?

Queen Scarlet spread her wings. “Behold, my new champion,” she said. She looked down into the arena. “Peril, kill him.”

“Ahem.” Vermilion cleared his throat importantly, clapping his wings together to draw the attention of the murmuring crowd. “As punishment for his crime, Tangerine has been sentenced to death by combat, with the sentence to be carried out IMMEDIATELY! His opponent in this match is the Queen’s Champion, Peril. Claws up, fire ready! Fight!” With that final word, he flapped his wings and lifted off, leaving the two combatants behind. It didn’t look anything like a fair fight—Tangerine, as a fully grown dragon, completely dwarfed Peril in size. And even though Osprey knew Peril’s firescales made her extremely dangerous in combat, she wasn’t invulnerable if something could hurt her faster than she could burn it away, and he feared for the small dragonet standing on the sands. Tangerine would not survive this match. But would Peril?

Tangerine looked at Peril, and laughed. “I don’t need to fight a dragonet,” the prisoner said, and he turned away. Peril hesitated.

“Do it,” shouted the Queen, “kill him now!” 

Peril sprang forward with claws and wings extended. Her teeth dug into the sensitive spot at the end of Tangerine’s tail. _I taught her that,_ thought Osprey, looking on with a mix of horror and pride. 

Tangerine keened in pain and flung his tail outward. Peril lost her grip and slammed into the arena wall, her small body impacting the stones with a dull _thud_ and falling to the ground. But Tangerine didn’t press his advantage—he had curled himself around the spot on his tail bitten by Peril, his whole body shuddering with agony. On Tangerine’s tail, the scales Peril had bitten had blackened and burnt away to reveal a flash of white bone. The dragons in the audience were frozen with shock. From his position in the stands, Osprey could hear Tangerine’s ragged breathing as clearly as if he were standing beside the wounded dragon. 

" _Get up, Peril,"_ Osprey whispered.

By the arena wall, Peril stirred, shaking her head as if to clear it of dizziness. On the other side of the sands, Tangerine crouched, his head held close to the ground, clearly much more wary of the little copper-colored dragon than before. Peril stalked slowly towards him, then sprang into the air, her little wings beating the air, apparently having decided that her best shot at avoiding injury was in going for an aerial attack.

But Peril had never flown outside before, nor any distance longer than from one wall of a stone cell to the other. Her wingbeats were weak and erratic. As she went for his face, Tangerine swiped her out of the air with his teeth. The momentum brought them both crashing to the sands. 

Tangerine’s much larger jaws wrapped almost all the way around Peril’s body as she struggled frantically to free herself. Osprey’s breath caught in his throat, panic and horror clamoring in his mind. In that moment, Peril looked every inch a scared, tiny, two year old dragonet. And then Tangerine started screaming, deep, painful sounds ripping from his body. 

The arena filled with the cooking smell of burning meat. Through the smoke wreathing the combatants, Osprey saw Peril prying her way out from Tangerine’s jaws. The whole of his face was an ashy ruin where Peil had grabbed him to stop him biting down on her, and bones peeked through holes in his burnt skin. A horrible sound escaped from the mangled remains of his jaw—somehow, Tangerine was still alive.

Blood ran freely from a gash on Peril’s back, drying and burning into stark black stains on her coppery hide as it flowed onto her fiery scales. She turned to finish Tangerine off with a claw to the throat (another act of butchery Osprey had taught to this tiny dragonet).

“Wait,” said Queen Scarlet. Peril froze, her tiny talons uplifted. “I want everyone to watch him die. Slowly.”

No dragon spoke as Tangerine took his final painful breaths. The whole arena seemed to be holding its breath before Scarlet’s show of power. Without ever having to say it aloud, every dragon in attendance knew just what could happen to them if they dared to cross the Queen. 

“He is dead,” said Peril. Tangerine’s heaving sides had finally gone still. She turned towards the Queen’s balcony as a flower turns towards the sun. She knelt in the sand, every fiber in her body screaming out for Scarlet’s approval. And despite the miasma of fear hanging heavy over the arena, Osprey’s own unease was tempered by the fact that Peril was _alive, alive alive._ She’d survived the first of many battles, and Osprey would do everything in his power to see that she survived the next one, and each and every battle the Queen threw her into after that.

“Rise, my champion Peril.” Queen Scarlet’s voice oozed with her pleasure and pride. It was the only sound to be heard across the whole arena. Peril’s smile glowed, accentuated by her fiery scales and the blood covering her body. “You have done well.”

Scarlet dismissed her spectators. Slowly, the arena came back to life with the low rumble of dragon voices. But the smell of burnt scales still hung like perfume in the air.

On the sands, a pair of guards lifted Tangerine’s body away, to be tossed into a ravine and burned with the other dead. Another set of guards surrounded Peril, and walked her out of sight into the palace. A light rain began to fall, clearing the air and washing away the blood from the sand.

That night, when Osprey visited Peril, the acrid smell of burning flesh lingered in his throat. A little bit of blood still stained Peril’s scales. There was a set of gashes on her back where Tangerine’s teeth and claws had injured her before they were burnt to ashes. They were unbandaged, for bandages would just burn away in the heat of Peril’s scales, and Osprey could see that the wounds had clotted to fragile-looking scabs. But Peril couldn’t seem to care less. All she talked about was the brightness, the largeness of the sky and Queen Scarlet’s pride.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Osprey was apparently the dragon who taught Peril to read and write, as well as teaching her the history of the SkyWings. Peril also says that he likes to tell stories of “the old days,” so we get to see a little of that in this chapter.  
> In this chapter we also see Peril intentionally, methodologically kill a dragon for the first time, and because she’s been raised to think that (1) this is a perfectly normal and fine thing to do, (2) she’s already a monster, and (3) it makes Scarlet happy, Peril barely finds the task disturbing at all. Osprey finds it disturbing enough for the both of them.  
> Note that Peril’s firescales do not in fact make her invulnerable to harm (for example, the incident with the dragonflame cactus in _Escaping Peril_. Additionally, since she cannot melt rock, she could probably be defeated using weapons made of stone)  
> I do think that the narrative that Peril killed her brother and was saved by Queen Scarlet is a likely response to Peril ever wanting to do something else with her life (not in a “killing dragons is wrong and I won’t do it” sense, but more in a “I don’t want to be an accountant, I’d rather be a music teacher” sense). It’s a story that says two main things (1) Peril owes everything to Scarlet, and so there’s a sense of debt/repayment owed, and (2) the thing she was meant to do is killing and it’s the only thing she is good for.  
> Now one important thing I went into this chapter wanting to convey is that Osprey really _was_ complicit in what Scarlet did to Peril (at least up until his decision to speak out at Kestrel’s trial)—as one of the dragons who was there, he knew the truth of what happened at Peril’s hatching, and did not tell her, and based on Peril’s thoughts about herself in Escaping Peril, he probably never outwardly disagreed with Scarlet’s messaging that Peril was predestined to be a murderous killer. Since he was an old, flightless dragon relying on the mercy of a Queen for whom sufficient justification to execute someone is “he was boring me,” (and also Scarlet _did_ immediately kill him when he told Peril the truth), I can’t really entirely condemn him for it.  
> My interpretation is that, at least in the beginning, Osprey was uneasy with Scarlet’s decisions to lie to Peril and pressure her into being her Champion, but talked himself out of his doubts because he wanted to believe that Scarlet cared about Peril and wanted the best for her, and also because he was too powerless and afraid to do anything about it. But do I think it does complexify his character in this chapter that he’s balancing on the one hand starting to care deeply for Peril and on the other hand his fear of and respect for his Queen. This battle between Osprey’s affection for Peril (and thus his desire to protect her and tell her the truth) and his healthy sense of self-preservation and respect for Scarlet will continue to play out over the rest of the fic.


End file.
